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PARTNER. ALWAYS USE PROTECTIVE MEASURE.'
The next day started with a quick drive-past, with a photo opportunity, of the Punakha Dzong, said to be Bhutan's most holy. The first king was crowned there in 1907. This commanding fortress stands on shingle banks at the confluence of the Mo and Pho rivers. Its situation certainly makes it picturesque, but also vulnerable. A flash flood ten or so years ago caused extensive damage which is still being repaired. The sad thing is that this deluge was probably not an isolated flash flood at all, but the first of many - the result of the effect of global warming on the frozen Tibetan wastes. Anyway, by command of the king no expense is to be spared in the restoration work, as we would see later.
Tomorrow was to be the start of a major festival, and we were to return to see it. The festival invokes Bhutan's principal deity and protection for the country in the coming year; it also marks the beginning of spring. But for the moment we had other things to see further up the Mo. People were drifting past in threes and fours in the opposite direction, including some members of the Laya tribe. I guess we could have appeared to them as no less unearthly than Princess Leia herself from Planet Alderaan. Our 'bus had to stop right next to a group of Laya, having to give way to some more fortunate people descending to the dzong in a vehicle. These Laya, a Bhutanese nomadic tribe, comprised mainly very old women and very young children and were, we were told, just coming to the end of a three-day trek to get to the following day's festivities. Quick as a flash, the old crones in the walking party whipped out from beneath their vestments some shining "jewelled" necklaces with which to tempt the wealthy tourists. They did not make a sale that day, but I felt it was only a matter of time before their family assets would be disposed of to some tourist or other in this manner. I also guessed that if one of us happened to take a shine to their shoes, they too would have instantly had a price attached. (Some of their shoes, more like embroidered felt boots, were indeed very fine.)
Still no bacon
It was with mixed feelings that I also saw a large pig, foraging by the roadside - the first I had seen in Bhutan. I happen to like pigs very much, but a very large part of me was wondering (again) if there would